The Song of Patroclus
We shall meet at last, when
I am finally laid to rest.
You had to cross first, for you
witnessed my leaving, Achilles.
I wait still, in silence, to hold
thy hand in the dark below,
Alas, all of this—just for the
fleeting echo of fame.
I shall see you soon, Achilles.
So much of you remains with me,
woven into my soul.
I speak often with your mother,
Together we mourn and celebrate
your immortal grandeur.
I feel the hour drawing
near for our reunion,
I never knew how much
weight a name could carry.
Copyright © Manya Saxena | Year Posted 2025
|